The Black Widow Case Pt. 03

"Hector, Please don't do anything rash. We can deal with it." I said. "I'm really sorry!"

It was a bit of an empty statement because I knew that I wasn't that sorry to have met and fucked Martha. As a matter of fact, it was such a lie that even Hector in his distraught frame of mind didn't believe it. I saw it in his eyes. And I saw his determination. I recognized the same impulse that probably had him to run and rescue his fellow soldier so many years ago.

Slowly, he unclipped his holster.

"Please Hector! Don't do it!" I implored but to no avail.

Rapidly, he grabbed his .45 and took it out from the holster.

"No! Don't..." I said but didn't finish as he was leveling his .45 toward me.

I had time to fire two shots before he had time to shoot. I knew that my aim was true, but I also felt it when I took a bullet. Everything faded to black.

***

I woke up at the hospital. Instead of pretty nurses looking like angels, I woke up to the sight of an old nurse with a moustache and with detectives O'Hara and O'Toole standing in my room. It is not my idea of a nice awakening if you ask me.

"Hi guys! What's up?" I asked. "I'm really touched that you felt like taking care of me."

All I got was a frown from the two detectives. With my hand I felt a bandage on my head, but I wasn't feeling that bad.

O'Hara spoke to the nurse.

"Is he alright? Can we ask him a few questions?" he asked the nurse.

She shrugged. "As far as the doctor said, it was only a concussion from a bullet grazing his skull. Be my guest!" she said, and left the room.

"Hi Smith! Care to explain how you ended up with a corpse in your apartment after a shoot out?" asked O'Toole.

I spent the next few hours explaining my investigation on the three murders, embellishing it a bit to let them believe that I had Hector as my main suspect all along. They took a lot of notes. It is not everyday that a shooting leads to the resolution of that many murders.

When they were finished, they asked me to hang around as they might have more questions. In return, I asked them if they could help me keep a low profile in the event. I knew it was impossible to keep my name out of the case, but maybe if they could skip the part about me being a private investigator. They agreed and I found out that they were true to their word in the following days as the newspaper clipping referred to me only as a poor victim of a conjugal drama.

I soon started to contact all the parties that were offering rewards. Only one contact balked at my claim for the reward. It was the parent of the gym trainer. They were offering the reward for information leading to the prosecution of the murderer. As Hector was dead, there would be no prosecution.

However, I was still in good shape to receive $350,000 for less than a year of investigation. Not bad! Not bad at all!

It didn't take long for the first payment to arrive. Thomas Nelson Sr. sent me a $250,000 check for solving his grandson's death. I cashed in the check the same day, but I felt like I was cashing the payment for a hit. The note with the payment kind of helped me feel like that.

"Thank you for getting rid of that murderer," read the note.

One month later, I received the reward for the murder of Matthias Raymond. There was no note except to say that it was a reward for uncovering the murderer.

I am not rich, but I never earned that much money in one year. Hope Uncle Sam won't take too much! I should probably consult a fiscal advisor.

Epilogue

As much as I was excited earlier by the prospect of earning that much money, now my life simply felt empty. I have spent nearly one year on these cases, including six months dating Martha. I didn't miss working the cases. I sure missed seeing Martha.

But there was nothing I could do. My involvement was public. I shot Hector. I killed her husband, the man that she loved deeply despite her cheating ways. I have now a scar on my forehead, a memento from that fateful meeting with Hector.

With an inflated bank account, it was difficult to get my head back in the investigating business. My heart wasn't in it anymore. I had enough to put a down payment on an old building that could house my office and my apartment, as well as a few tenants. Something good was coming out of my newly acquired wealth, but not much.

Life must go on! At least, this was what I kept telling myself, but it was hard to believe, and harder to live by.

I never tried to reach Martha again. I was ashamed of my part in her husband's death. He might have been a serial killer, but he was still a man she loved deeply. I finally realized that her love for him was such that she must have guessed he was killing her lovers, and she never acted on that knowledge. Was it out of guilt or out of indifference? I don't know.

And she never tried to reach me either. Until today!

I heard a knock on the door of my new office.

"Come in!" I yelled.

The door opened, and there was Martha, sublime, exquisite.

Our eyes locked. I don't know if she felt my insecurity, my guilty feelings, and my bone-deep shame. However, my analytic mind saw an echo in her: guilt and shame. And above all, I saw a sadness that was carved in every new creases of her face. In a matter of one year, she had aged so many more. But she was still the beautiful woman I felt in love with.

We didn't say a word for many minutes: 10? 20? An hour? I couldn't say. She finally broke the silence.

"That scar on your forehead, is that from your... your meeting with Hector?" she asked.

Involuntarily my hand reached for the scar on my forehead.

"Yes, this is where the bullet hit me," I replied.

She cringed at that fact.

"I'm sorry!" she said.

"You don't have to apologize. I knew well in what I was involving myself with," I answered.

"It's a lie. You didn't know. I spent the last year going all over it, and I am sure you didn't know what I knew, or suspected," she said.

She paused a few more seconds. " It's a lie, like all your other lies. Like you being married, like you being a researcher... But I can't blame you. Because I didn't tell you the truth either."

Her beautiful eyes abandoned me, left me stranded in a void, and went toward the floor.

"I knew something was wrong. I thought that Hector was responsible for the death of some of my lovers, but it wasn't all of them. I wasn't sure. And I didn't want to believe it. He was such a nice and decent man. He couldn't be a murderer. And I lied to myself, believing it was only bad coincidences. I lied to myself, and it almost cost you your life. I'm sorry!"

She paused for a long time.

"It took me a whole year to realize my mistake. I had many lovers, but the only one that Hector killed were the ones I started to have deep feelings for. All the others, the one-night stands, the fuck friends without any feelings, were never in trouble. If I hadn't been so self-centered about it, I would have discovered it earlier. For that, I'm sorry!"

She was stripping herself bare in front of me. For honesty's sake, I had to be as honest.

"Martha, you don't have to apologize. You know by now that I am a private investigator. I made many mistakes in that investigation. First, like you, I didn't find out that the only victims were the one you fell in love with. I never even realized that your feelings were involved," I said.

"I am sorry!" I added more forcibly. "Because all along I though you were the killer."

On that her eyes looked back up. "What? You though I was the murderer?" she asked.

"Yes!" I said softly. That was my turn to have my eyes cast down.

"But... But... you made love to me. You didn't just fuck me like many others. You made love to me. I don't understand," she said.

"That was my second mistake in that investigation. I fell in love with you," I answered. "It didn't matter that you were a slut, that you were a cheating spouse or that I thought that you were a murderer. I wanted to be with you. I really believed that you were a killer and that my life was at stake each time I was with you. But I would have given my life any time just for those few-shared moments. It was totally outside of my life experience. I had no points of reference. I was willing to die in your arms just for that. That's why I pleaded with Hector not to start shooting. I understood him. I knew what he was feeling. Hector showed you that you are a woman worth killing for and I am showing you that you are a woman worth dying for."

She turned around, ready to leave.

"Martha, wait! Don't leave. I also have to apologize."

She turned around, looking at me. We stayed silent for many seconds. It was my turn to be unable to talk. What was I thinking? I was the guy that killed her beloved husband, even if we all knew that he was a serial killer. I was the guy that lied to her for months. I was the guy that believed she was a murderer. I was the guy that earned a nice profit from her husband death.

"You asked me to stay, now take your time and talk. I don't anymore have the strength to talk or share anything with you... But I am willing to listen. Talk!" she asked softly.

And talk I did. I wanted her to know everything about me; what my job involved, what were my motives when I started to investigate her, and what I erroneously believed about her. Then I told her about the final deadly meeting with Hector. I also told her about the way my feelings for her grew with each encounter, explaining that, at the end, I didn't care if she was out to kill me. I told her everything.

She didn't say a word, didn't ask a question. Tears were regularly coming down her cheek, the only sign of her emotions. When I was finished, we stared at each other again without saying a word.

She finally broke the silence.

"All that you said, I already knew or assumed. I had many weeks to just think about it," she said. "I spent too many weeks alone with my guilt. I don't think you can appease it. It was foolish of me to hope otherwise. You pulled the trigger, but I was the one that led him to his death. He was a wonderful human being and I transformed him in a savage revengeful murderer. But still, I hoped that you would say something that could help me deal with what I had done. Again I was being selfish."

I fretted a bit but finally tried to answer. "I am glad that you came. I realize now that I needed it. In my own personal selfish way, I needed to see you. I have no other ulterior motive or well-thought master plan, just a basic need to see you again."

"Really?" she asked.

"I have to tell you that I also feel guilty about Hector's death? I PULLED THE TRIGGER. I had that revolver for years and never shot at anybody. Everybody knows I did it in self-defense. But I also spent the last year thinking that if I had decided to simply follow you instead of going for the easy fuck, everything would have been different. That's what it was at the beginning: an easy fuck with an incredibly beautiful woman. There you were, a sexy, classy, beautiful slut that couldn't keep her legs close. I went for it. Now I know that if I had kept it at that simple fucking level, everything would have been fine. But I had to fall for you, despite all your flaws as a wife or as a girlfriend. I never saw it coming. And now I believe this is what triggered Hector's murderous behavior. He knew I was in love with you."

"No, don't think that," said Martha. "Hector knew me like nobody else, even you. I had other men falling in love with me, or what they believe was love. But he did nothing to them. But with the ones he killed, I guess he believed that I was falling in love with them. He was so wrong... except for you."

My face must have showed my amazement at that last statement.

"Yes, idiot! I did care a lot for the others. They were nice, gentle and loving. But I never loved any of them until I met you. It wasn't like my love for Hector. It could never be and he should have known that. But it was there with you. I cherished our moments together almost as much as my intimate moments with Hector. I'm sorry to say, but you are the only one that should have died."

There really was nothing else to say.

"I realize that it came all wrong. I didn't mean that I wanted you dead. I meant that you were the only lover of mine that Hector had a reason to be jealous of. You are the only lover I fell in love with."

She had tears all over her face. She didn't say another word, turned around, and left the office. When the door closed on her, my own tears started to flow. Why did she come back?

I loved that woman, but I didn't believe that she could fall in love with me, the killer of her beloved husband. Even if she could get over that fact, we could never have a normal relationship. I knew that once sexually active again, there was nothing that could stop her from sleeping around. I wouldn't be an accepting cuckold. If I had even a small claim on her, I would certainly go for any intruders and simply beat the crap out of them.

No, we are better apart even if I know that she would always be the love of my life.